the plate-glass front, aloof among a throng of eager and talkative women
who pressed around him--that Plowden would not have spent his money on
a mere impulse of mischief-making. He would be counting upon something
more tangible than revenge--something that could be counted and weighed
and converted into a bank-balance. He smiled when he reached this
conclusion--greatly surprising and confusing a matronly lady into
whose correct face he chanced to be looking at the instant--and turning
slowly, continued his walk.

At the office of the hotel, he much regretted not having driven instead,
for he learned that Semple had twice telephoned from the City for him.
It was late in the afternoon--he noted with satisfaction that the
clock showed it to be already past the hour of the Tavender-Gafferson
appointment,--but he had Semple's office called up, upon the chance that
someone might be there. The clerk had not consumed more than ten minutes
in the preliminaries of finding out that no one was there--Thorpe
meanwhile passing savage comments to the other clerks about the British
official conception of the telephone as an instrument of discipline and
humiliation--when Semple himself appeared in the doorway.

The Broker gave an exclamation of relief at seeing Thorpe, and then,
apparently indifferent to the display of excitement he was exhibiting,
drew him aside.

"Come somewhere where we can talk," he whispered nervously.

Thorpe had never seen the little Scotchman in such a flurry. "We'll go
up to my rooms," he said, and led the way to the lift.

Upstairs, Semple bolted the door of the sitting-room behind them, and
satisfied himself that there was no one in the adjoining bedroom. Then,
unburdening himself with another sigh, he tossed aside his hat, and
looked keenly up at the big man. "There's the devil to pay," he said
briefly.

Thorpe had a fleeting pride in the lethargic, composed front he was able
to present. "All right," he said with forced placidity. "If he's got to
be paid, we'll pay him." He continued to smile a little.

"It's nah joke," the other hastened to warn him. "I have it from two
different quarters. An application has been made to the Stock Exchange
Committee, this afternoon, to intervene and stop our business, on the
ground of fraud. It comes verra straight to me."

Thorpe regarded his Broker contemplatively. The news fitted with
precision into what he had previously known; it was rendered altogether
har